


The Dragon

by copperheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperheart/pseuds/copperheart
Summary: Harry Potter can't find Platform 9 3/4. This time, instead of it being the Weasleys who meet the young, scared wizard at King's Cross it is the Malfoys.Cut ahead a few years and their friendship is being tried by secrets and, of course, poor communication. Thankfully, some of their friends have kept their heads and help things to run smoothly again.(The first three paragraphs are lifted from the books themselves)CW // Mention of Child Ab*se





	The Dragon

‘Have a good term,’ said Uncle Vernon with a nasty smile. He left without another word. Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away – all three of them were laughing. Harry’s mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks because of Hedwig. He’d have to stop someone.

He stopped a passing guard but didn’t dare mention platform nine and three quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn’t even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o’clock, but the guard said there wasn’t one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time-wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket box between platforms nine and ten.

“-just filled with Muggles, of course. I’m of a good mind to talk to Dumbledore about the logistics of the use of a train.” A tall, blond man was saying disparagingly to a kinder yet aristocratic looking woman who Harry presumed was his wife. A boy who looked the same age as Harry with the same white-blond hair as the man talking was walking next to them, a glimmer of excitement threatening to creep into his otherwise haughty expression.

Harry paused, nervous about these stylishly-dressed peoples’ potential reaction to a scruffy looking boy in an oversized t-shirt approaching them in the middle of the station. They looked fairly hostile. Taking one last glance at the still ticking clock, Harry walked purposefully towards them.

“E-excuse me!”

The boy turned around first, nudging his mother to get her attention.

“D-did you say muggles? And Dumbledore?” Harry asked uncertainly, and the mother nodded. “Only, I’m lost and trying to find Platform 9 ¾ to go to Hogwarts… you wouldn’t know where that was…?”

The woman finally smiled, a smile that was practised and precise but still, somehow, filled with warmth.

“Of course, sweetheart. Our Draco’s in his first year at Hogwarts too. He’s very nervous-”

_“Mother!”_

“The platform’s just through this brick wall. Lucius, if you take Draco through I’ll go through with Harry here afterwards.”

The tall man nodded, and Harry was certain he detected an ounce of glee in his action, taking the arm of ‘Draco’ and the two of them walked straight into the wall in front of them before vanishing.

The initial surprise at her knowing his name was overtaken immediately.

“Just run at it with your trolley, dear. I’m right next to you.”

Harry nodded, an expression of determination fixating over his face. Gripping the handles of the trolley so hard that his knuckles turned white, he took off and walked into the wall in front of him. A cold sensation went over him momentarily before he stepped out onto a platform not unlike the one on the other side of the wall, only this time there appeared to be a menagerie of cats and owls and toads making a racket over the shouts of excited school children, many of whom were dressed in cloaks similar to the ones Harry had bought in Diagon Alley, and similar to the ones Draco and his family were all adorned in.

“You made it, then?” Draco asked, smirking.

“Yes, thank you. Your parents were a lot of help,” Here, Harry turned to the two adults who were now standing behind him. “Thank you very much.”

“That’s okay, Harry. It was no problem.”

Harry paused, disconcerted both by the fact that the man still hadn’t spoken to him and was instead watching him excitedly, and the fact that somehow, she knew his name.

“Uh… How do you know my name?” Harry asked, unsettled. There was an uncomfortable pause, before the woman answered, vaguely.

“It’s on your suitcase, see…”

Harry wasn’t quite convinced but dropped the subject.

“Go on then Draco, take… Harry… and get on the train.” Lucius spoke, finally, and Draco nodded. What followed was an uncomfortable goodbye that was, though warmer than Harry’s goodbye with the Dursleys, oddly formal. As they were walking Harry away, he was certain he heard the man muttering excitedly to his wife about him, until she elbowed him in the side and hissed something.

They walked together quietly, Harry’s head whirling, finding an empty compartment relatively easily.

“Which House do you think you’ll be?” Draco asked, breaking the silence as they sat down. Harry blinked, confused, responding with a prolonged ‘uh’ sound. “You don’t know? What, did you grow up with Muggles or something?” Draco started to laugh, not unkindly but as if he’d just told a brilliant joke but stopped as Harry nodded.

“My aunt and uncle.”

“You lived with muggles? But you’re-” Harry turned from the window to look at Draco quizzically, wondering both how he would have finished the sentences and why he stopped. Suddenly, the compartment door was pushed open and a ginger boy wearing a knitted jumper with an ‘R’ on it and some slightly-too-big jeans that looked like they were second-hand.

“Everywhere else is full, mind if I sit?” The boy asked, taking the seat next to Draco without waiting for a response.

“Let me guess… red hair, hand-me-down clothes – you must be a Weasley!” Draco announced, the haughty superiority startling Harry who faced him confusedly.

“A what?” Harry asked at the same time as the ‘Weasley’ let out an indignant _‘Hey!’_

“Good Godric, you really were brought up by muggles. A Weasley, a notoriously muggle-friendly pureblood family with eight children, all ginger, no two galleons to rub together.”

“And you’re a _Malfoy,_ your family’s hardly all sunshine and rainbows,” Ron all but snarled, but Draco merely shrugged, keeping his cool. Ron, instead of continuing the argument, turned to Harry. “I’m Ron, and you are…?”

“I’m Harry, and that’s Draco.” Ron nodded, his eyes slowly travelling upwards until they reached the distinctive lightning bolt scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Bloody hell… you’re Harry Potter…” Ron’s voice was filled with awe, and he turned to Draco suddenly. “Did you know?”

Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Of course, I did.”

“Why does everyone know who I am?” Harry asked, frustrated into asking.

“You’re Harry Potter – you’re famous!” Ron exclaimed, his eyes still slightly too round for Harry to be comfortable.

“You pretty much saved most of the wizarding world from this dark wizard when you were a baby. My parents won’t tell me much about the war, but he was really powerful.” Draco explained calmly and slightly more helpfully than Ron’s response had been.

“Who, me?” He asked, bewildered. “Are you sure?”

Draco laughed somewhat affectionately, his cold exterior slowly breaking down, and nodded.

“Definitely. It seems like we have a lot to teach you about the wizarding world, Potter.”

“Okay, well, you could start with the houses you were talking about earlier,” Harry suggested, sitting up in his seat.

“There are four houses – Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and,” here, Ron’s face screwed up a little as he shot a glare at Draco “Slytherin. Gryffindor’s the best house – it’s where all the brave people go. Ravenclaw’s for the book-smart ones, Hufflepuff’s for the loyal, patient people, and Slytherin-”

“Slytherin’s for anyone ambitious or cunning. It’s got a really bad reputation because You-Know-Who was a Slytherin, but it’s not that bad. Plus, green is a really flattering colour.” Draco grinned at the last part, and the other two smiled with him. The previously hostile Ron was starting to visibly relax, and for the rest of the journey the only sign of any aggression between them came in the form of playful banter. Harry was glad – he couldn’t help but like Draco, but the snide remarks about Ron’s family had bugged him and he wasn’t sure whether Ron would have started to get physical if there were any more snide remarks.

In what felt like no time at all, the train pulled into the station and they all hurried out in their cloaks.

“We forgot our trunks!” Harry exclaimed suddenly, about to turn around, but Draco stopped him and said good-naturedly.

“The House Elves get them – keep up, Harry!”

Still confused, Harry kept following the blond and ginger boys.

“This way, firs’ years!” A loud voice boomed across the platform, and Harry saw Hagrid. He grinned up at the giant man who sent him a cheery wave. “Alrigh’ Harry?”

Harry gave him a thumbs up and waited with Draco and Ron in amongst the crowds of 11 year olds all sharing the same apprehensive expressions.

“Righ’, firs’ years! Follow me!”

They all trailed after Hagrid, four quick steps for each one of his giant strides. They reached the lake where several boats were waiting for them. Draco, Ron and Harry found an empty boat and were joined by a girl with bushy hair who shot them all a toothy grin.

“Hi! _I’m_ Hermione Granger. And you are?”

The boys replied, their ingrained 11-year-old boy tendencies preventing them from answering with any real enthusiasm to this _girl._

Harry stared out of the boat at their surroundings, his eyes round behind his glasses.

“You’ll catch flies,” Draco teased, amusement lacing his voice.

“Are _you_ muggle-born too?” Hermione asked, sitting forward in her seat.

“No, I just… didn’t grow up around magic. The opposite, really,” the last part was said with a dry smile and he turned to face Hermione for the first time properly since she’d sat in the boat.

“You’re – you’re Harry Potter!” She exclaimed, attracting the curious stares of people in the surrounding boats. Harry nodded, heat rushing to his face with embarrassment.

“Leave him alone, Granger,” Ron said aggressively as if he hadn’t exclaimed the same thing just as insensitively a few hours previously, and this time it was her turn to blush. She opened her mouth a couple of times like she was going to protest before settling on looking out across the lake. As the castle came into sight, they all followed her lead, even Draco letting out a gasp as it reared up in front of them.

“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed, perfectly articulating the thoughts of the rest of them.

Soon, they reached the castle and it was time for sorting. Out of the three of them, Draco went up first.

“Good luck,” Harry whispered as he went up, and Draco grinned back, not letting his nerves show. He sat on the stool as indicated and the hat was placed on his head. It had barely touched his hair when it called out Slytherin, and Draco smiled and walked happily over to the applauding table. Ron snorted unkindly, but Harry was delighted for his first friend.

Next, it was Harry’s turn. His cheeks turned red at the audible gasp from what seemed like every single one of the people at all four of the tables, and eyes began to scour the gaggle of first years left at the front. He willed himself to move, scarcely breathing as he approached the stool. He sat, and the hat was placed on his head.

_Hmm… Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting… where shall I put you? Slytherin, perhaps… you could be great… No – it has to be – GRYFFINDOR!_

Harry opened his tightly closed eyes and searched the crowd for the blond boy that he already felt oddly attached to. Draco shot him a smile, a smile that said _‘it’s okay, our houses don’t have to come between us’,_ and Harry immediately relaxed his shoulders that he hadn’t noticed were tense. He hopped off the stool and walked towards the cheering table dressed in burgundy and gold and took a seat next to the girl from the boat who, it appeared, had also been sorted into Gryffindor.

 

“Morning, lizard!” A cheery voice came from above where Draco Malfoy was sat underneath a tree by the lake. His eyes narrowed, and he closed his book, radiating irritation.

“For the last time, Potter, my name means _dragon.”_

Harry grinned and took a bite of the apple he had been holding.

“But dragons are supposed to be scary!”

Draco glared at Harry who, to his dismay, just laughed.

“I’m scary.”

Harry just shrugged, his smile turning into a cocky smirk that caused annoyance to bubble inside Draco until he had to turn away.

“Why am I still friends with you?” He sighed, exasperated, and Harry let out a gasp which, Draco knew, was totally put on. Mostly because it was overdramatic, and Harry was very, very bad at acting.

“I gave you a list to memorise last time you said that! Or maybe it was the time before…”

“I don’t think ‘He’s got cool hair’ is enough of a reason to stay friends with you. And anyway, my hair is much better than your unruly bird’s nest.” Draco sniffed, but couldn’t help the smile creep up onto his face. “Don’t you have some work to do instead of bothering me?” He asked, forcing the smile to disappear.

“You do have good hair,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “Don’t pretend you want me to leave, we both know I’m the person who brings the most light into your life.”

Draco smiled wryly, wishing against all odds that it wasn’t true. He felt the familiar affection rise at Harry’s faux-cocky expression and, as usually, tried immediately to squash it – it aroused too many internal questions that Draco wasn’t quite ready to face yet.

“Go away, Potter.” He said, turning back to his book, his voice steady and quiet, totally devoid of any mocking. “I didn’t ask you to be here and you’re just annoying me. I don’t know why we’re still friends.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Sure. I get it,” Harry muttered, the irritating cheer all but gone from his voice. For a reason he could not quite fathom, Draco wished more than anything that it would return. He turned to look at his friend, confused at the sudden change of tone. He raised an eyebrow at Harry who didn’t quite meet his eye, pushing himself up from the ground and walking back the way he had come only minutes before. “See you later, Draco.”

Draco watched him leave, still confused, before turning his eyes back to his book, his brows furrowed in a frown.

Ten minutes later and he slammed the book shut in frustration having read the same sentence over and over, his mind whirring with concern. He stood up and marched towards the castle, scanning his surroundings for a familiar ginger head of hair.

_Bingo!_ (Hermione had taught him this word and the bizarreness of the sound made Draco laugh. Muggles were strange creatures.)

“Weasel! Granger!”

Despite officially being of the ‘friend’ status since late first year after eight months of fighting over Harry behind his back, Draco and Ron still acted hostile towards each other, mostly because of the tension between their families. Even if they were usually at each other’s throats, Draco felt fond of the awkwardly tall ginger boy, and knew Ron would be there for him if he was truly in trouble. Their constant arguing drove Hermione, Harry, Blaise, and Pansy crazy.

Ron scowled at the approaching figure.

“What is it, Malfoy?”

“Why is Harry being weird?” He demanded, still standing.

“What do you mean weird?” Ron asked, an expression of confusion crossing his face. “He seemed alright last I saw him.”

Draco sighed.

“Great. So it’s me.”

Here, Hermione interjected sympathetically, her voice careful.

“It’s not you. He’s been having a rough time lately anyway, and… I think he just needs a friendly face.”

“We’re friends, though!” Draco scowled, irritated that he couldn’t understand more. “And what do you mean a rough time?”

“Look, school’s nearly over and he’s worried about going back to the Dursleys,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “I know you have that whole banter thing going on, but I think what he needs right now is someone he knows he can rely on.”

“I’m not saying this to be mean, but… he has you, right? As the person he can rely on. And Weasley, and Pansy as well, they’re very close. Why me as well?” He asked, and Hermione raised an eyebrow, her expression showing that she knew something Draco didn’t. When she didn’t say anything, Draco groaned. There was no point trying to wheedle something out of her when she was in this mood. “I’ll find him.”

 

“Oi, Potter!” Draco called out between pants having climbed the endless flights of stairs up to the owlery. “I knew I’d find you here.”

Harry sent him a slight nod to show he was aware of his presence. Draco coughed awkwardly – he would never admit it but Harry was his closest friend, and if he couldn’t have a serious conversation with Harry, he worried for his social skills.

“Sorry I didn’t notice you were worried about the Dursleys.” He said softly, sitting on the beam next to Harry and not turning to face him. Harry laughed bitterly.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak to me without an edge to your voice.”

Draco’s head shot up, a confused expression.

“Huh?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple as if he had a headache.

“Look, Draco. I thought I was okay with keeping this whole ‘I hate you’ thing going, but… it’s reached the point where I don’t know where I stand. I keep trying to break down the wall between us but I’m exhausted. I never know where I stand, and there’s too much going on right now for me to stay on my toes all the time. It’s been six years.”

Draco opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly. Harry laughed, the tiniest hint of his old humour creeping into the otherwise hollow sound.

“That’s the best goldfish impression I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Draco replied sharply. “I didn’t know you felt like that and I’m sorry.”

Harry sighed, turning back to the owls.

“Right. Thanks, Draco.”

Draco paused, conflicted. The cold, moody expression on Harry’s face was unfamiliar and Draco was worried and unbelievably uncomfortable.

“What is it?” He asked, his voice wary.

“You’re so formal! We’ve been friends for so long and I know nothing about your family life, and I never know how you feel. Too many secrets!”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you, but you haven’t exactly been open about how you feel either!” Draco glared at him. “Up until now this has been okay! What’s changed?!”

Harry matched his glare, his stance defensive.

“Leave me alone, Malfoy.” Harry spat, and Draco turned around to walk downstairs with only a momentary hint of hurt crossing his face.

“Gladly.”

 

 

“I don’t understand him, Pansy.” Draco groaned in the Slytherin Common Room, punching the wall by the side of the fireplace, and wincing as his knuckles started to bleed. “We’ve _always_ acted like that and it’s never been an issue! Why’s he so difficult?!”

“You’re both stubborn.” Pansy offered, and Draco shot her a glare.

“I am _not.”_

“Do you want my help or not?” Pansy replied sharply, and Draco immediately dropped the matter.

“Please, Pansy. I hate not talking to him.”

Pansy nodded.

“For starters, you need to be telling him that and not me.” Draco looked at her with an expression of disdain.

“I would never tell him that.”

“And that’s where you’re going wrong. Look, you two have always had some sort of weird connection that none of us have ever been able to understand – why do you think Ron gets so jealous? – and you’ve always been the exception to his obtuseness.”

“Really?” Butterflies started to flap around in Draco’s stomach and Pansy smirked.

“You have butterflies.”

“How did you-? I mean… I don’t?”

“Don’t get mad, but do you think it might be possible that you like boys? And one boy in particular?”

Draco blinked once.

Then he blinked again.

“I- You- What- _No!”_

Pansy nodded, her arms in front of her defensively.

“Just something to think about, Draco.”

She stood up and made her way out of the common room before he could properly react. She flinched as she heard an item smash, looking back just in time to see he had thrown a glass bowl at the wall. She shook her head bemusedly and hoped she’d finally have started the process along and smiled fondly as she saw a certain bushy haired Gryffindor girl stood waiting outside the door.

“I told him.” She grinned, kissing the girl’s cheek and taking her hand.

“Oh, God! How did that go?”

“He was throwing things when I left,” Pansy laughed. “I bet you a galleon that they’re together by the end of the week.”

“Deal!”

 

If things would have been bad before between Harry and Draco, now they were even worse. If someone even mentioned Harry, or even the word ‘hairy’ as Blaise unfortunately discovered after ending up with a burnt hole in the arm of one of his robes after the blond had thrown a spell in his direction, Draco became irrationally angry and stormed off, and if he happened to catch sight of the messy dark hair a string of curse words each more malevolent than the next would fall out of his mouth and he’d hex whoever was nearby.

In his anger he failed to notice that Harry spent near to all of his time alone and could be seen frequently staring across the Great Hall at his empty spot in the Slytherin table, or after his retreating figure from a distance.

“You have to try and talk to him, Harry,” Pansy said, her and Hermione having eventually found him accidentally on their way to find an alcove together.

“He obviously doesn’t want to.” Harry muttered, lobbing a stone out across the lake. 

“Find him. You’re both miserable.”

And they were. The dark rings that Draco had failed to notice before were even darker now, and he was growing his own matching set. As Harry isolated himself, moving with a certain listlessness, Draco became more irritable towards their friends who were quickly growing impatient.

Finally, after a week of avoiding one another they accidentally bumped into each other back in the owlery – as accidentally as something carefully orchestrated by an irritated group of friends could be. Harry spent every evening there with Hedwig, and Blaise had asked Draco if he’d send a letter to his parents for him as he had a detention that evening, and it was ‘very important’.

Draco stopped stock still as he opened the door at the top of the stairs. Harry was stood at the window, a silhouette against the purple sky of the Scottish summer evening. A light breeze was blowing through his hair and he was hunched over the sill. Draco noticed his clenched fists and a sudden desire to unfurl them gently with his own hands washed over him. It was a fierce protectiveness, a sudden realisation that he would do anything for the sad boy stood in front of him, and a force that wasn’t his own mind pushed him forwards a few steps. He reached out and touched his shoulder, whispering an apology when Harry flinched. With his other hand, he lifted Harry’s hand and, as he had envisioned a mere minute and a half previously, lifted his fingers into a relaxed position one by one and rubbed the crescent moons in the palm of his hand with his thumb.

Harry watched his hands, a slightly wary and confused expression evident on his face. Eventually, Draco looked up and met his eyes with his own. He lifted his arm and brushed away the remaining tears threatening to fall off the boy’s face and out into the grounds of Hogwarts.

They remained silent for a few moments, staring at each other with confusion, apprehension, wonder and, undeniably, lust.

“I love you. I always have, and I’m sorry I didn’t notice before.” Draco whispered finally. A warm blush rose to Harry’s cheeks.

“I love you.” He replied, his voice low.

Draco, still holding Harry’s wrists, placed the boy’s arms around his neck before wrapping his own around his waist. Their lips met in the middle, expressing all the apologies and explanations and ‘I love you’s that had been hanging between them for longer than either of them had been aware, and they kissed.

Pulling apart, they stared at each other for a few moments before Harry started to laugh. It was a raw, beautiful laugh that broke the spell, and suddenly Draco was laughing with him. If asked, neither of them could have said why, and they sank down onto the floor and leant against the wall, their hands and legs intertwined.

“You love me?” Draco asked once the laughter had ceased, and Harry nodded.

“More than anything.”

They sat in comfortable silence, unlike any of the silences that had been present between them recently.  

“It got physical towards the end of last year.” Harry murmured quietly, humourlessly, startling the blond Slytherin into looking at him. “I mean, Dudley’s beat me up countless times before, but… Uncle Vernon found out that I’m… gay… and grabbed a poker. After that, he joined in with Dudley. My aunt, too – the poker got quite hot…” He smiled wanly, resting his head against Draco’s shoulder and fidgeting with the skin around his nails. “They were trying to push it out of me – turn me into less of a freak. I didn’t eat anything except for left-over birthday cake from all of you for two weeks, and that eventually ran out. I don’t—I don’t want to go back.”

Draco stared at him for a few moments, taken aback at the boy’s – _his_ boy’s – sudden confession. An overwhelming anger greater than anything he’d felt before surge through him.

“Draco, let go.” He heard eventually, distantly, from somewhere that seemed so removed from him. Being pulled back to reality, he became aware that he was squeezing Harry’s hand so hard it had turned white.

“Oh, Harry… I’m so sorry.”

Harry smiled wanly.

“That’s why I’ve been… off. If my secret wasn’t enough, the dread is just… It’s crippling.”

“You can’t go back.” Draco insisted, his voice leaving no room for any argument.

“Ron’s said I can stay at the Burrow for a couple of weeks, but I haven’t told him everything. I know Mrs Weasley would let me stay, though.”

“What about Professor Lupin and your godfather? You mentioned that they have a cottage somewhere.”

Harry paused, considering.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea… if they’d have me. I’ll write to them.”

“If not, you can stay with me. My mother loves you, and we’d just have to try and fend father’s ambitious schemes off.” Draco rolled his eyes as he mentioned his father. Harry had visited the Malfoy manor a few times, and every time he went Narcissa became increasingly friendly and less aristocratic, and Lucius seemed to become more eccentric.

“Thank you, Draco.” He looked up, the corners of his eyes beginning to crease as he smiled, and he caught the Slytherin’s lips with his own. It was some time before either of them spoke again, their mouths otherwise engaged.

“That’s enough of the pity. Let’s go find some friends, lizard.”

 “It means _dragon!_ I’m not some idiot gecko! Surely you want to be dating a mighty dragon instead of a lizard?!”

Harry grinned at him.

“Sure liz.”

Before Harry could come up with a retort, Draco had pressed Harry’s back against the wall and his wrists held away from his body. He kissed the Gryffindor with a greater intensity to any of the others, and by the time he finally let him go he had to physically support the dazed Harry to ensure he didn’t slide down to the floor again. He kissed the side of his neck and growled.

Harry laughed breathlessly, distracted.

“Maybe there’s more dragon in you than I initially thought…”

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel/prequel/mid-uel to come.   
> Probably.


End file.
